FIC: Torchwood (challenge): Saturday Morning
Title: Saturday Morning
Fandom: Torchwood
Challenge: theatrical_muse, prompt #229 - If you could get anyone drunk, who would it be and what would you do? (223 words)
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Not mine, no claims, all property of the BBC.
Notes: My current theatrical_muse posting for torchwoodgwen. Posted to theatrical_muse, torchwoodgwen and my lj. Set late in or after series 2.
Saturday Morning
Saturday morning. Early? Late? Gwen didn't know. Didn't care.
No alarm clock. No phone ringing. Last night Captain Jack had said to them all, "Get some sleep. I'm tired of seeing you looking like zombies. Sleep! If there's an emergency, I'll call. I'll call when I want you. Otherwise, get lost. Sleep!"
So Gwen had gone home, and blissfully curled up under the down comforter with Rhys, and slept.
Until morning.
Then there was Rhys's hands on her body, and he was laughing, saying, "What are you doing home?"
"I can come home sometimes," she protested.
"No!"
"Yes!"
That earned her kisses. "You're not Gwen. Gwen's never here. You're an alien shapeshifter."
"I might be an alien sex fiend."
"Oh? That might be a bit of all right. I like alien sex fiends."
"Rhys Williams, this is your lucky day."
Touch and play and more laughter and a bottomless pit of need and want and yes. Heat and lips and groans and whimpers. It ended in screams, and more sleep, and then more of the same. It ended - no, it didn't end. Love was open-ended.
Miracle of miracles, Jack still hadn't rung her up for work. It was almost noon.
"You look happy," said Rhys.
"Look who's talking!" She kissed his nose. "Don't mind me, macho man. I'm just drunk on love."
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